


Promptober 2018 - Day 6

by Ethanamide



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 03:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16255622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethanamide/pseuds/Ethanamide
Summary: Married Sherlolly, S4 AU where Mary lives. Day 6 of promptober - "I've heard enough, this ends now,"





	Promptober 2018 - Day 6

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted on Tumblr under Ethanamide-writes

6\. “I heard enough, this ends now.” 

It had taken Mary approximately 43 minutes to establish where their husbands had gone, who had lured them there, and why. Along with Molly, she was usually quite happy to leave them to their own devices, letting them think that they were humanities best bet for solving the weird and the wonderful. Thankfully, Sherlock and John weren’t aware that Mycroft’s more difficult, and confidential cases went to Mary and Molly – and were often solved in half the time, with less than half the bother, than when the boys used to take them. It was a matter of pride, after all, and John was struggling enough with his wife’s past without being usurped by another woman in his pseudo-job. Today, however, when they had not returned home for their dinner, Mary had rung Molly to check whether John had forgotten to mention they were running late. He had not, Molly had not heard from Sherlock all day either, which was never a good sign. It was not uncommon for Sherlock to stride in while the two women were on the phone trying to establish where their husbands were, thus they decided to give it another fifteen minutes, giving them the benefit of the doubt.

Mary had rung back ten minutes later, a cursory look into NSY’s files telling her that they would be eating late this evening. The two convened at Baker Street, Mary having mostly figured it out by the time she got there, tying up loose ends over a cup of tea. They were being held in a warehouse further out of the city centre, so Mary drove them over, rather than spending a fortune on a cab -not that Sherlock couldn’t afford it. It was also useful to have the car as an option for any chasing or for a quick getaway. The journey was less painless than it could have been, traffic behaving itself for once, and they made it to the warehouse in good time. 

They made short work of the guards on the outside of the building, steadily making their way through to the main work space of the previously abandoned warehouse. As they approached, they heard a voice that not even Mary had anticipated: Moriarty. He appeared to be arguing with Sherlock about fruit of all things, whether lemons were inherently better than oranges. They stopped and listened for a few minutes, Mary struggling to contain her laughter, and Molly getting more and more confused, until she’d had quite enough, and marched into the open space.

“I’ve heard enough – this ends now. No more bickering, do your threatening, posturing, or whatever it is you’re here for, so I can get home to my tea.” Molly said sternly, smiling inwardly as the two reacted to her voice like small children with hands caught in the biscuit tin. 

“Molly dear, I just wanted to wish you congratulations on your marriage, even if it is to Mr Boring. We would have had more fun – how can you marry someone who doesn’t like strawberries?” Moriarty said, seemingly genuine in his well wishes and confusion.

“Not doesn’t like – is allergic to. Gives him a rash. All over.” Molly revealed, ignoring Sherlock’s cry of protest. Moriarty cackled, his laughter mingling with Mary’s, as she made her presence known.

“Rosie! Good to see you again, I heard you married the barely sentient one, shame really. You two would have made a far better couple,” Jim gestured at the two women, grinning as they made a show of considering it. Sherlock looked at the three of them like they’d each grown another head, until the penny dropped. He rolled his eyes, of course Molly would have kept in contact with Jim from IT after they broke up, and even after discovering he was Moriarty. It explained how he’d survived on the roof after Reichenbach, Molly would know exactly how to fool him.

It transpired that Jim had lured Sherlock and John to the warehouse under the impression there was a bomb somewhere, but upon reaching their destination, the consulting criminal had proceeded to knock John unconscious (“annoying”), and grill Sherlock on every aspect of his recent wedding. He’d wanted to see photos, videos, plans, critiquing every aspect of the day. Sherlock had not realised just how serious the other man’s complaints had been about not being invited- he hadn’t known him to be alive, and Molly wasn’t willing to ‘fess up to faking both their deaths that day quite yet. Bored of hiding in the shadows, however, Jim had decided to force her hand by revealing himself to Sherlock. 

As Jim went to get something out of his pocket, Sherlock’s hand flew to his gun reflexively, but it quickly fell back to his side when he realised this whole ruse was just to give Molly a wedding present. A small box that he could have put in the post, and saved them all the hassle. He couldn’t quite see what it was from where he was standing, but whatever it was clearly pleased Molly, as she let out an excitable squeal.

“I didn’t think they’d released tickets yet?!” She exclaimed

Sherlock’s eyes went wide at the word tickets. Whether it was theatre, museum, or a sporting event, he was not going to have a good time. He would accompany his wife, attempt not to be bored and miserable, and hope she was too excited to notice just how much he hated anything that involved being in that large a crowd. Molly took one look at his horrified expression and burst into laughter, assuring him that he didn’t have to go. She hugged Moriarty in thanks, something that only served to reinforce Sherlock’s horror, before giving her apologies that they ought to be going. 

“What just happened?” John asked, waking in the car halfway back to Baker Street. Sherlock started to fill him in, attempting to make sense of the last few hours himself, and failing. Molly had a lot of explaining to do.


End file.
